Storm the World with Reckless Abandon
by S.S.AERIAL
Summary: (STORY MOVED TO AO3, archive of our own . org. IF YOU WANT TO READ, LOOK AT MY PROFILE INFORMATION AND MY ACCOUNT NAME WILL BE THERE. WILL NO LONGER BE UPDATING MY STORIES IN FANFICTION. PLEASE RESPECT.)
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Hunger Games or Bleach.**

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 **Summary:** So due to one of Urahara's failed experiments that Ichigo unluckily got a full blast of (because life hates him and trouble is attracted to him like a clingy fangirl he could do without), Ichigo ends up in a dystopian universe where people take perverse pleasure in watching kids fight to the death. Which just, no. So Panem now has to deal with a pissed of Ichigo who's determined to stop the Hunger Games and pummel Snow to the ground. And Panem doesn't have a snowball chance in hell in stopping him.

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 **Notes:** Okay, so, because I'm obsessed with Hunger Games right now, I basically formulated a crossover between Hunger Games and Bleach. I have no idea if this is good or not, and can only hope people like this. Ichigo has always been my favorite character and has this tendency to turn people's world-views upside down.

This is before Katniss, around a couple years before, so after Johanna's games. I'm just writing this to get rid of my Hunger Games fixation, and to get my fix on Finnick since he's going to play a large part in this story. It's crackish, so please don't take this seriously. Really, just don't analyze too much because I'm just too plain lazy right now to make this over-elaborate.

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 **Chapter 1**

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"Son of a _bitch."_

It was the first thing that left Ichigo's mouth before a yelp escaped out him as he promptly tripped over a tree root upon arrival and tumbled off the hill with all the grace of a flat-out drunk Matsumoto.

(He should know. Courtesy over the fact he never got smashed himself, it was usually his job at the end of one of the Gotei 13's crazy parties that he deals with the chaos. Byakuya and Toushiro ditching him in the aftermath didn't really help matters, those bastards.)

His fall finally stopped after a few minutes with him swearing up a colorful storm by the end of it. Groaning, he looked up and was greeted by the sight of stormy skies and giant trees that looked entirely out of place in modern Japan.

Dread pooled into his stomach as he shot up from where he laid on dewy grass. He looked around, taking in the out-of-place landscape, and snarled viciously as he realized he had abso- _fucking_ -lutley no clue where the hell he was.

"I'm going to _murder_ hat and clogs." He promised darkly to himself.

Fuck him and his crazy-ass experiments that go wrong. Urahara may be a genius, but he had his moments of fuckups that result in Ichigo cleaning up the mess. Aizen was just the tip of the iceberg.

Sighing with deep feeling that questioned life itself, he got up and carried on. No point in moping in what's already done. Time to see wherever the hell he ended up in.

Easier said than done. Everywhere he looked, everything looked the damn same. He lost count how many times he tripped over clumps of sticks or got scratched by branches he didn't manage to brush away. By the time he got out of the forest, he was littered with cuts and had leaves stuck in his hair and clothes. From an outsider's point of view, he practically looked feral.

After basically staggering around like an idiot for an hour, he finally stumbled across a crass looking metal fence that seemed to envelop whatever area it was encompassing.

He stared, bemused by its existence. If he didn't know any better, judging from the very bleak atmosphere he could sense even from the other side of the barbed fence, it didn't feel like the fence was really _protecting_ so much as _trapping_ whatever was inside.

A rather ominous prospect if he was honest with himself.

A rare stray thought of common sense of just turning back and maybe waiting for Urahara to fix the problem instead of venturing into the unknown crossed his mind.

He thought about it for five seconds then quickly dismissed it.

Waiting was never his forte anyway. Besides, civilization was close and who knows, maybe the people here were friendly.

Though with his luck, that probably won't be the case.

Waving away the cynical thought, Ichigo easily leaped over the fence without touching it, using a bit of shunpo to give him a boost. Though he couldn't feel the electric waves the sign was claiming to be rigged of, he didn't want to risk it just in case.

Landing with silent feather lightness that contradicted his entire personality, he started to walk down the streets with all the casualness of someone knowing he could handle whatever came at him. He wandered a bit, taking in the small houses that all looked run down and pitiful, marked by poverty that had Ichigo frowning in disconcertion. The feeling only grew when he now saw people scurrying about, heads bowed and eyes wary and always watching.

The moment they spotted him, people started stopping in their tracks with gaping mouths and something close to fear in their gazes, which made absolutely _no sense_ to Ichigo. It's like he's an impossible novelty that shouldn't even exist. Murmurs rose and Ichigo felt himself tense from the strange, piercing stares.

And judging by the fact he could hear English surrounding him on all sides, he was going to have to probably deal with language barriers.

 _Fucking fantastic._

He made it to what looked like the town square when the white soldiers came.

By this point, Ichigo was fed up and tired of not knowing what the fuck was going on. So when they approached him with guns and badly replicated storm-troopers uniforms, the first thing Ichigo did was snap out a retort.

"What do you want?" it came out more awkwardly than he liked, his tongue unfamiliar with the foreign language he has only ever used in English class at school. One man stepped up bravely, faceless mask covering whatever trepidation he was feeling. Ichigo could practically feel the wariness that vibrated off the man.

And who could blame him? With Ichigo's wild hair and eyes and battered appearance that essentially hollered _'Don't mess with me'_ , they probably thought they were dealing with something close to a wild animal.

"Sir, you're going to have to come with us." The man said curtly in a clear tone that was mildly muffled under his mask.

Ichigo narrowed his eyes, contemplating and weighing the consequences of refusing, and sighed.

"Fine." He said shortly. Once he figured out what he was going to do next, it was probably better not to make enemies so soon. Who knew how long he's stuck here.

As for the soldiers, they surrounded Ichigo and led him away from prying eyes, a bit more relaxed and under the impression that the strange man's surrender meant he wasn't going to cause trouble later on.

Unknown to all of Panem's and Snow's knowledge however, Ichigo's arrival was synonymic to _shit hitting the fan._

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 **Please review on the way out! And also, I just wanted to warn readers that I've been using my AO3 account more often than Fanfiction, and that I've posted a lot more chapters in that site than this one. People have been copying off people's stories in Fanfiction (including me), which is inclining me to just erase this entire account if people keep doing it. It's really annoying and very tiring considering I don't want to deal with that bullshit and am tempted to just abandon it all.**

 **Also, if you have any questions or want to check out my other snippets and stories, check out my tumblr page at aerialflight. Please check it out and if people like this story, I'll update all my other chapters too. Hope you enjoyed!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Hunger Games or Bleach**

* * *

 **Notes:** Well, judging from the reactions so far, people are liking this so far. So I'll continue to post the other chapters at from now on. Let's hope this doesn't blow up in my face. Hope you enjoy! And seriously, please check out my tumblr page aerialflight and my AO3 account. I post a lot more there than in. Username is SSAerial. Anyway, please enjoy!

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 **Chapter 2**

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Nobody really knew the exact reason why they were here.

Tapping the table with his neatly clipped fingernails, Finnick glanced around the table to the other victors who all looked whether bored, impatient, or nervous out of their minds on why they were called.

The fact it was the president who called them only skyrocketed the tension that suffocated the room.

To be honest, he was just relieved that the call had interrupted the 'activities' he had been enforced to take, whole body still aching and feeling violated over what the Capital demanded of him.

Closing his eyes, he stomped down the well of self-loathing and memories that arose at the thought of what his job entailed, and thought back instead to the situation that Panem was currently dealing with at the moment. Personally, Finnick thought everyone was acting like headless chickens who had no clue on how to handle the bombshell handed to them, which was incredibly amusing. Not that he could really blame them however.

He had been 'entertaining' a pair of twins when all of Panem's television sets suddenly turned on for a special message from President Snow.

The very fact Snow was notifying all of Panem of some occurrence had made Finnick inwardly tense while he carefully stayed relaxed and loose in both of the women's giggling arms.

And what Snow said next shocked the nation as whole.

Pandemonium _exploded_.

An outsider. Someone _outside of Panem_ had just stumbled into District 12 before being apprehended and immediately sent to the Capital, probably to be interrogated over how exactly his very existence was even possible. Everyone knew the war had damaged the earth in a world-wide scale, to the point some places were simply inhabitable or too dangerous to risk exploring.

This solid fact wasn't even one of Panem's many games or lies. After all, nothing in nearly a hundred years has ever come from outside the borders of Panem. And at the beginning, people who had been banished to the outside world was confirmed to be dead by real footages that even the tributes knew weren't fake after long-time experience in distinguishing what was real or not on camera.

Finnick had leaned in, watching the piece of film that was showing on screen of the outsider's capture with interest, and felt his heart plummet down to the bottom of the ocean when he finally got a clear view of the mysterious figure's face.

A teenager. It was a _fucking teenager_.

Worse, he was the prime age of people who got reaped, people who Snow _loved_ to pick on.

And even from the barely minutes clip that was shown to the public, Finnick could already distinguish the square shoulders, the defiant chin and straight back that practically screamed at the world to challenge him. Strength radiated off of him in spectacular waves.

Strength that Snow would have much pleasure in shattering into pieces.

Already, Finnick knew without doubt that Snow was going to use the kid, create an intricate plan that'll crush whatever rising hope the Districts will roar with and make an example out of this outsider.

As for how, well, that has yet to be revealed.

Ten minutes of silence passed before someone finally came into the room. Everyone straightened immediately when shockingly, President Snow himself entered in, a genial cold smile fixated on his bearded face. His very presence demanded attention, his appearance deceptively frail though the razor shop cruelty in his eyes negated the image.

"I'm glad all of you can make it." He said, as if they had a choice in the matter. Finnick saw Johanna gnash her teeth together at the sentence and worried she might try something. The death of her family was still fresh from last year and Finnick, who had gotten close to her enough to see through her vicious demeanor, saw a flicker of fear mixed with potent hatred in her glinting eyes.

"Well, we didn't really have anything better to do." Haymitch suddenly drawled out, swirling a cup of whiskey lazily. His eyes were sharp though, landing on Johanna for only a second before proceeding to grin drunkenly.

Finnick immediately got where Haymitch was going with this and resisted the urge to shut his eyes and sigh. Driving Snow's displeasure toward a much less volatile target who actually knew which buttons to push was better than the mess known as Johanna Mason.

Sometimes, Finnick hated Haymitch for always trying to take the blame. It made him feel more indebted to him than he already was.

Snow's eyes narrowed minutely, which practically screamed how truly irritated he was by the drunk man, but he simply nodded and kept talking, much to the room's collective relief.

"As you are all aware, we have a guest currently residing in the Capital." The president declared. Johanna looked close to snorting at the word 'guest' and glanced at him from the corner of his eye. More like prisoner.

Snow planted his hands on the table imperiously, coming in between Cashmere and Gloss. Both discreetly inched away, not wanting to get anywhere _near_ the man who literally made their lives hell.

"Unfortunately, the boy," some of the more younger tributes couldn't help but flinch at the reminder. "cannot stay in the Capital. Showing such favoritism to a person not even from Panem would be... unfair, don't you agree?" He questioned with a light note, eyes hard. "Though we don't want to show we're inhospitable, now do we?"

No one answered, which was an answer in itself. Their response made the old man smile.

It was terrifying.

Finnick understood where Snow came from. There was the slim chance that the Capital might get attached or too curious for their own good with this new novelty in the shape of a person. It would be more difficult to get rid of the outsider under such close scrutiny and attention if his usefulness finally depleted itself. And putting a complete unknown in the heart of Panem was just asking for chaos to happen.

Putting him in a district where Snow could keep an eye on him however...

Suddenly, Finnick knew exactly what Snow was going to ask.

And right on cue, Snow said, "Which is why I would like to ask one of you to take him in."

Stunned silence greeted the suggestion, everyone completely blanking out on what to say.

 _"What?"_ Johanna typically broke the ice, an incredulous laugh bubbling out of her like molten lava. "Are you _fucking with me?"_

"What she means is," Beetee quickly butts in, seeing the rising danger Johanna was causing. "Why particularly the victors? Why not other more suitable citizens?"

Snow smiles with all his teeth and it sends a shiver down Finnick's spine. He swore he could smell the blood that was constantly under Snow's breathe even from across the table.

"Why? Exempting the Capital itself, all of you are the richest and most comfortably living people in all of Panem. It would be a great _honor_ for anyone to be under your wing."

There was a look in Snow's eyes that said he was about to make the finishing blow and Finnick was wary of it.

He was proven right.

"And anyone who is willing to take him in, will not have to come to the Capital in the foreseeable future as long as he remains a guest for as long as I allow it."

The reactions were immediate.

Johanna practically leaped off her chair to stand with wide, shining eyes and a look of fierce resolve painted Cashmere's face. They looked more fired up than they probably did in the games, and that was alarmingly dangerous.

Finnick knew, at the back of his mind, that Snow was clearly manipulating them, making them feel rare _want_ so he could decimate it in the near future and break them even further.

Despite himself though, Finnick felt a swell of desperate _hopefulness_ grow inside his chest, nearly choking him in its potency. Hazily, he could see the rest of the tributes stiffen as the full realization of what this meant hit them fully.

No more prostitution. No more having to force themselves to smile in front of people who they loathe, monsters in human skin cheering at their shining tributes who can do no wrong. No more having to directly face the fame they hated, fame that tore apart their old lives and killed off their friends and family.

Just a moment of reprieve. A small period of time where they could put down their guards and masks, to stay home with whoever they loved was left. The very idea was _heavenworthy._

He could see it in their eyes. They were in the arena again, turning against each other to claw for the prize that awaited them if they won. Even Chaff, the most easy-going of them all, looked grim and ready to crush anyone who dared to take this dangling bait away from him.

Snow's smile was menacing, cruel and mocking. Finnick was attacked by a sudden feeling of hatred so deep that he wanted to leap across the table and strangle the bastard.

 _He_ was doing this. _He_ was creating strife among a group of damaged people who only had each other. And god damn it, it was _working._

"We could take him in." Gloss instantly, _eagerly_ , volunteered before anyone could say anything. "Two tributes taking him in will be quite a story for the Capital."

"Pair of victor siblings taking in a child who doesn't know our ways? It'll be great on the papers." Cashmere added in her two cents.

"My children and husband would love him." Cecelia interjected with a harshness that was outside her usually motherly nature. "A whole family set would sound _much_ better in comparison."

Enobaria scoffed, the sound full of condescension. _"Please._ It's going to have to be someone from a Career district obviously. After all, if anyone should hold guests, it should be from the best of the best. _Everyone_ knows that."

"Really? Cause this is news to me _bitch."_ Johanna hissed, eyes sparking like spitfire.

 _"What did you say?"_

Finnick watched as chaos and screeching shouts bounced off the walls, watched as they all destroyed each other, picking on each other's weaknesses that they gained over the years. Tearing each other apart until nothing will be left but resentment and bloodshed.

Watched as Snow smiled in the background, reaping the benefits of the discord he has caused.

He glanced at Haymitch and Chaff, who were looking at each other with grave expressions as the euphoria of what was offered wore off for these older men who had seen too much.

The revolution they were trying to set up needed not just a spark, but cooperation. If this ended up destroying the tributes trust in each other, there was going to be hell to pay. They couldn't afford to break apart, not now. Not when they were _so damn close._

So Finnick did what he always did.

He took the fall so others would survive.

Putting on his most winning smile, he started to laugh, the pressure of knowing this would have to be an once-in-a-lifetime performance making his hands slightly clammy. Everyone stopped and was watching him now.

But nobody was going to notice something minor like that.

All they saw was Finnick Odair grinning charmingly with all the confidence of a man who knew he was going to win.

Most of the tributes have seen him act, knows his cues and ticks and weak spots.

He was determined to not let any of them show.

Finnick started to clap in a rather languid manner, still grinning away while Snow watched him with beady eyes that took in his handsome features down to his ridiculous dress shoes that his stylist insisted he should wear.

"Well," Finnick clicked his teeth, putting on a show of mock disapproval. "This isn't civilized at all. Though I have to say, Enobaria is right. It's going to have to be a Career, otherwise people aren't going to see it as us being completely hospitable with our guest."

He just _knew_ Johanna was glaring lasers at him even without looking. She was going to _hate him_ by the end of this.

Snow was staring at him contemplatively, aged eyebrows raised.

"And you're suggesting yourself?" he said mildly.

"Of course!" Finnick chuckled lowly, seductively. It always won him points, even when he's not in bed. "Out of all the tributes, I'm the youngest by far, excluding our lovely Johanna of course but like I said, _Career_. So logically, our guest who's what, sixteen? Eighteen? He would feel most comfortable with someone close to his age group. More willing to _trust_."

"Indeed." Snow agreed, and Finnick's heart thumped wildly as victory came within reach. "However, how are you so sure he will trust you in the end?"

"No offense Mr. President," Finnick said with all the empty arrogance he could muster. "but who _doesn't_ like me?"

And oh, how bitterly true that was.

Snow actually chuckled at this, cool amusement clear in his eyes and _that's_ when Finnick knew he won.

"True." The man looked him straight in the eyes, turning Finnick cold. "Who knows, you just might like him back."

And on that note, President Snow left the room, the door closing behind the disorder he had just created of his own making.

"Johanna-"

She passed him by furiously along with everyone else.

Finnick sighed in the now empty room and ran a hand through bronze locks, feeling more alone then he has in a long time.

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 **Please review on the way out and again, check out my tumblr page aerialflight and AO3 account!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Hunger Games or Bleach**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thank you for the support for this story, and I'm glad so many people like this already. I'll be posting a bit more regularly, don't worry. I've just been really busy with my exams and papers that's been happening these past couple of weeks. Hope you enjoy!

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 **Chapter 3**

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Ichigo doesn't know what the everloving _fuck_ is going on.

After the men in white took him into an aircraft, they somehow ended up in a city full of freak shows who looked even more bizarre than the Gotei 13 _combined_. And that's a rather disturbing imagery he had never wanted to know.

The soldiers took him in a huge building with white walls and hallways before setting him down and basically demanding answers with threatening undertones.

Ichigo hadn't been impressed.

So for three hours, as the demands grew more frustrated and angry, Ichigo basically repeated one sentence in a flat tone in English.

"I don't speak English."

Ichigo was pretty sure the soldiers took rotations in questioning him just so they would have the patience to not strangle him where he sat. Judging from the thumps he could distinguish from the vibrations on the walls, either the soldiers were punching it to let out their pent-up anger or banging their heads together and cursing till they turned blue.

He figured it was a record for him to drive so many professional people insane. It was gratifying, considering Ichigo was just as annoyed as they were from the interrogation.

Finally, due to the fact the soldiers apparently couldn't touch or hurt him seeing how doing so would be considered inhumane by this city's people's standards, Ichigo got away scott free without ever revealing one damn thing about himself. Which was a bit relieving, seeing how Ichigo knew how terrible he was at lying.

The second he hit the streets though with his escort, Ichigo faced a whole different problem that only multiplied his irritation tenfold. People gawked at him like he was a circus animal on display and it was aggravating the crap out of him. So for the next half an hour, Ichigo took great pleasure in flashing biting scowls everywhere he went just to vindictively enjoy the deeply appalled expressions people shot his way every time.

The fun, however, died a quick, violent death when someone tried to dress him up in the most ridiculous orange frills Ichigo has ever encountered in his life. Apparently, from what frustrated mutters he could make out from the equally ridiculous stylist, the orange cloth matched splendidly with his _'lovely'_ orange hair.

Ichigo had never missed being called sherbert head or carrot top until that very moment.

Not that he'll ever in a _million_ _years_ tell Renji that. The guy would lord it over his head until his deathbed. Maybe even after that. Who knows with that idiot.

After only a day in his company, the pompous woman finally gave up, no match to Ichigo's legendary stubbornness.

 _"_ _FINE!"_ She had shrieked, tossing the cloth in Ichigo's scowling face with surprisingly good aim across the gigantic living room. "Dress like the-the _barbarian_ you are! Don't come crying to _me_ when you finally realize you have _no taste in fashion!"_

"I won't." Ichigo had responded back in the driest tone possible. "Don't forget that purple wig of yours. Don't want everybody to know you're actually a bald hag."

 _"_ _Such insolence! And its LAVENDER you imbecile!"_

And that was basically how he lost his stylist. He wasn't really losing any sleep over it.

Before Ichigo knew it, a few days already passed since he arrived in the acid colored city and Ichigo was already getting sick and tired of the color pink.

It was _everywhere_. Who in their fucking right mind decorated an entire apartment hot pink?

Insane, deluded people, he was starting to suspect.

Where was common sense when you needed it?

Somewhere in the heavens, fate was laughing at him. He just _knew_ it.

And now, apparently, he was going to move in with some douchebag named Finnish or whatever. Considering the fact District 4 was what people would call a fishing community, he wouldn't be surprised if that really was the guy's name, which kinda sucked a lot.

So after a week since arriving in this insane new world, he ended up leaving the eye-sore monstrosity of an apartment with only the clothes on his back.

 _Good riddance._

Surprisingly, he discovered the main mode for transportation in this world were trains. Ichigo took note of this and the fact the technology here seemed more advanced in some retrospects than others. The improvements on media coverage, for example, was something he definitely wished he could do without. He was pretty sure everybody knew his face now.

The very thought filled him with distaste.

When he and the escort reached the train station heading for District 4, a man was waiting for them there. Ichigo was surprised to see how young he was, barely looking like he was in his twenties. Not only that, he was absurdly too pretty looking, everything about him meant to dazzle and blind people in his wake.

But what really took the cake was the utterly fake grin that enveloped the man's expression, so empty and hollow that it hurt to look at him.

Ichigo instantly disliked him.

"Sir, this is Ichigo." The escort introduced shortly, not bothering to introduce the other man. Probably because he thought Ichigo knew by now. "He is the charge Snow has left in your care."

"Hi!" the bronze haired man held out his hand with a fixated, friendly grin on his face. Ichigo glanced around him to affirm to himself that yup, nobody seemed at all perturbed by the lack of sincerity the man was expressing. Everyone instead looked completely captivated by the charming young man, women practically swooning where they stood.

It made Ichigo _sick._

"Stop it." Ichigo barked out without even thinking about censoring himself. He just wanted the man to _stop_.

The young man's expression faltered and rippled like a distorted lake, the grin falling away to be replaced by a mystified small smile, as if he didn't know how else to respond.

"Stop what?" he sounded genuinely puzzled, which was a relief. Ichigo had almost thought the man was a robot with how mechanical that phony smile had been.

"Smiling. It's creepy as fuck." Ichigo stated, blunt as a brick.

The guy looked nonplussed. Clearly, he hadn't expected his response.

The escort coughed, blushing when both pair of eyes zeroed in on him.

"Mr. Odair, the train will be leaving in two minutes."

Odair blinked at that and damn smiled again, as if he couldn't help his own reaction even when absolutely _nothing_ about him was even _remotely_ close to happy.

"Ah, thank you for the reminder! Come on, our seats are at the very back…"

Ichigo had the feeling this was going to be a really long train ride.

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 **Please review and tell me what you think! Also, if you need anything, my tumblr page is aerialflight and my AO3 where I post more of my works is SSAerial. Thank you!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Hunger Games or Bleach**

* * *

 **Notes:** Wow, the feedback is great and I'm glad people are starting to like this! This is more of an outside perspective, and doesn't have Ichigo in it. However, Haymitch has now been introduced! Please enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

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"He hates me."

 _"You're over exaggerating. Don't get your feathers all ruffled."_

"Haymitch, I'm serious. The kid took one look at me and told me to stop smiling because it was _creepy_."

 _"So he didn't swoon the moment he saw you. Boo hoo. Get over it, you peacock."_

Finnick resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall at Haymitch's sarcastic dismissal over an issue Finnick saw as _very relevant._

His whole winning argument towards Snow was over the fact Ichigo would trust him when they met, that Finnick would be able to charm the pants off of him like he did with everyone else.

 _Everyone_ liked Finnick.

Everyone except apparently Ichigo.

When Finnick had been waiting at the train station, his mind had been whirling restlessly over the fact he had to make a good impression on the kid. He couldn't afford to screw up, otherwise Snow would be snapping at his heels in no time and drag the poor kid elsewhere to another Career. Probably Gloss and Cashmere. Their points hadn't been unconvincing.

Which would be terrible for the Rebellion. The kid was an unknown the Capital nor the District 13 knew about. He was a wild card, and his presence could change the very shape of the game the two sides were cautiously playing against each other. To put him in a position where the Rebellion couldn't keep an eye on him while Snow could would be a disadvantage that might cost them everything.

Right now, the kid was a symbol, whether he knew it or not. A symbol that staggered everybody's expectations just from his very _existence._ To think there was something not under the Capital's jurisdiction made the kid a beacon of defiance alone.

And Finnick had to be the one to manage him and make sure he didn't get on Snow's bad side, otherwise all their efforts would crumble into ash.

Snow would crush Ichigo under his boot, and the rising hope that flared at Ichigo's appearance would be snuffed out instantly.

Which was why Ichigo outright disliking him from the start was downright alarming.

Finnick thought back with a wince to the train ride a few days ago. The teen had completely ignored him as if he wasn't even there and had promptly fallen asleep the moment he plopped on one of the leather chairs. His whole body language practically screamed he didn't want to be disturbed by anybody and that conversation would not be appreciated.

Finnick, who was not used to being so thoroughly dismissed, had sat uncomfortably in his seat across from the teen and spent the rest of the ride quietly panicking now that the full implication of what was happening finally hit him.

A total stranger was going to be bunking with him in his home in District 4. Someone who already had a negative opinion on him that Finnick couldn't for the life of him figure out.

Did someone tell the kid about Finnick's reputation? Was the kid wary over the idea that Finnick would, what, try something on him? The very idea might've been laughable to some people, but Finnick felt like throwing up at the very idea of ever subjugating the kid to something like that.

The thought haunted him for a bit, to the point that when Ichigo woke up and saw the look on his face, he instantly frowned with confusion coloring his expression.

At the look, Finnick came close to blurting out that he would _never_ do something like that. That he wasn't really the giant flirt everyone in the Capital made him out to be. That he abhorred what he had to do, that he was doing it to protect Mags and Annie, the only two people in the world he had left to care about.

But the possibility that the kid would be even more disgusted by him for being so weak-willed to be prostituted and used like a wind-up toy halted any sort of confession from escaping out of his lips. Besides, there were cameras everywhere and it wouldn't do to reveal such a moment of weakness to Snow. And giving Ichigo another reason to hate him was only counterproductive.

So instead, he snapped his mouth shut and smiled until it stretched his cheeks to the point it hurt.

The action earned a hard scowl from Ichigo, confusion gone and replaced instead by flint-like suspicion. It was unnerving how those brown eyes seemed to burn right through him, as if he could see all the chinks in his armor.

The thought settled a sinking sensation in his gut. Never in his life has he felt so exposed except for those broken moments where he would sob on Mag's lap like a child or clung on to Annie like she's a lifeline. Which was ironic, seeing how he was her tether to reality too, even with how broken he was.

Finnick shook his head to get rid of these depressing thoughts and sighed outright.

"This is serious. If we don't have him as our ally, or at least not Snow's ally, it'll ruin everything."

There was a hum at the end of the line and Finnick knew he had Haymitch there.

 _"True. Which reminds me,"_ his voice took a more serious turn. _"there's a possibility Snow thinks Ichigo's a spy from District 13."_

Finnick straightened immediately, habitually glancing around his own home to make sure no one was near. The line was secure and the cameras were on loop, but you never knew who was hanging around.

"What do you mean?" Finnick demanded lowly.

 _"Well, think about it. It's been proven almost impossible that nobody can live outside of Panem. Whether they'll die from the nuclear exposure, or the land would kill them first. Of course, District 13 is saying they've got nothing to do with the kid, but Snow doesn't know that. And Snow has to play along with what the public thinks, otherwise it'll expose the fact District 13 is, indeed, still alive."_

"What does Coin think of all of this?"

Haymitch went silent for a moment before he finally spoke in a gruffer, darker tone. Haymitch has never really liked the woman. According to him, she was just as bad as Snow. For now though, she was a necessary evil to get rid of their current tyrant.

 _"She thinks Ichigo could be useful in the future."_

He paused before quietly adding, _"…She also thinks he could be a threat."_

 _To her? Or for everyone else?_

The silent questions loomed over them. Though Finnick has never personally met Coin, he's heard enough from Haymitch and what little snippets Plutarch lets loose combined to know she was just as power hungry as Snow. Such a thought was incredibly terrifying.

"So what do you think Snow's next move is?" Finnick abruptly changed the subject, not wanting to consider even more future problems than what they already presently were dealing with.

Haymitch didn't argue.

 _"… The games. When are they?"_

Finnick thought it was a trick question.

"A month. Why are you asking-"

Oh. _Oh._

"Fuck."

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and please check out my tumblr page, aerialflight. And my AO3 profile SSaerial. Please leave a review at the end and I hope you enjoyed it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Hunger Games or Bleach**

* * *

 **Notes:** Sorry for the long wait. Got sick for a while. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

* * *

Finnick was just entering the living room when he heard it.

Laughter.

He froze in his tracks, for a second almost not recognizing who it was that was laughing so freely, before it registered in his head.

 _Annie_ was _laughing_.

He nearly lunged for the door that led to the outside porch.

Ever since Ichigo came barging into his life, Annie had been avoiding Finnick's house like the plague, probably because she didn't want to risk scaring off the newcomer with one of her hysterical fits that she sometimes falls into. She's been getting slowly better over the years, but they both knew that she would never be fully sane after what she experienced during the games.

Sometimes she would stare off into space, seeing horrors Finnick was helpless in protecting her from because all of it already happened. Excluding Mags, he was the only one who was capable of pulling her out of those bouts of nothingness that emptied out her usually vibrant eyes, a dead man walking in every aspect.

He hated it. She never looked more like a corpse than those moments. He had nightmares that she would one day look like that permanently, like a pale drowned, animated body who's only going through the motions in living.

So to say he was shocked to see Annie laughing with her hands covering her mouth, as if to snuff out the beautiful sound released from her, with Ichigo crookedly smirking at her with warmth Finnick has never even come close to seeing from him before was a vast understatement.

Though admittedly, Ichigo had been outright avoiding interacting with Finnick since the beginning of his stay. He was always observing him though, eyes narrowed and mouth curling downward as if he's seeing something he doesn't like the more he's watching him.

But now, now he's smirking off-handedly with a certain charm that Finnick hadn't though Ichigo was capable of with how much the teen scowled.

Both looked up at the interruption and Annie immediately brightened when she saw him, sweet laughter wearing away to a small, heartfelt smile full of affection he didn't deserve.

"Finnick!" she exclaimed happily before hugging him like there was no tomorrow. Finnick couldn't help but grin broadly and hug her back, feeling like it's been centuries since he's held her in his arms. Sappy as it sounded, he's missed her these past few days.

At the corner of the eye, Finnick saw Ichigo's eyes widen with startlement before a thoughtful look morphed his face. It was the first time the teen looked at him without any antagonism and wow that sounded completely pathetic, even for him.

Annie let go and was still smiling. Finnick was pretty sure he was smiling back like a lovesick loon.

"Ichigo was just telling me stories about his friends from home." Annie explained and Finnick's eyebrows shot to the hairline at this while Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"She was curious." Ichigo grumbled, though he didn't sound truly irritated. His eyes were still gleaming with good humor.

"Oh?" Finnick plopped down on the porch next to the teen with Annie by his side, his curiosity piqued. Not once has Ichigo opened up to anyone or given any information about himself. From what rumor mills Finnick could discern, he even heard that Ichigo had managed to avoid the interrogation from the peacekeepers that were under Snow's orders altogether. He was still dying to know how in the hell the teen managed _that_ feet. "Do tell."

Ichigo snorted but he surprisingly didn't tell him to shove it.

Finnick took it as progress.

"Well, my best friend Rukia is a terrible drawer." Ichigo started out, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. "And yeah, she keeps claiming it's not true but, of course, it's complete crap. I mean seriously, look at this!"

Ichigo took out a little note from the back pocket of his pants and flattened out the folds so they could see it clearly.

Finnick choked.

It was the strangest picture of a rabbit – or what he assumes is a rabbit, he honestly couldn't tell – he's ever seen in his life. The ears were beyond crooked and the face was crude to the point it looked constipated from the way its eyebrows were drawn. And for some strange reason, it had a gigantic cleaver like sword in its hand and was wearing black robes that looked off-putting on the creature.

Needless to say, it was the most hilarious thing Finnick's seen in a while.

He burst out laughing and nearly fell off his seat as he did so, hand clutching onto the back of the bench to stabilize his position. Ichigo was full on smirking now with something close to satisfaction in his eyes but Finnick couldn't pay full attention to that.

Good god, he couldn't remember the last time he's genuinely laughed himself to tears in hell, _years_.

"She's- _cough_ -certainly gifted." Finnick managed to strangle out between his snickers.

Ichigo snorted. "Gifted my ass. She actually tried to draw a map for a little kid who was lost once and, well, the kid had commented how suckish her drawing skills were."

"Oh-Oh no!" Annie's eyes were twinkling with a different kind of madness, like she's barely holding onto her composure from the sheer hilarity of Ichigo's story, and it was absolutely _breathtaking_.

"Yeah, you could imagine how well she reacted to that." Ichigo said dryly, and it suddenly struck Finnick what was happening right now.

Annie was talking to another human being that wasn't him or Mags and she was acting _perfectly fine_. The surly, silent teen who hated him was looking at the love of his life like an _actual person_.

Not the poor, mad girl from District 4. Not the victorious tribute who had survived only by luck.

Just a kind young woman who was thoroughly enjoying the company of the new guest.

Finnick's never seen Annie more vibrant and happy in all his time knowing her. He had only really gotten to know her after the games, and she had been a shattered shade of who she used to be by that time. Looking at her now, he could easily imagine the kind, radiant person she had been before the games snatched her sanity away.

And it was all because of the outsider that Finnick got to see this rare, precious side of her.

Now, while most would've been jealous at the idea that another man made the woman he loved happy, Finnick only felt a wave of gratitude towards the younger man who managed to bring out this Annie when he couldn't.

"Well," Finnick blinked, startled out of his reverie when Ichigo suddenly stood up, stretching his back as he did so. He glanced at Finnick, none of the previous hostility anywhere in his gaze, and cocked his head to inside. "Are we eating lunch or not? It's half past one and I'm starved."

Finnick couldn't help but smile and shake his head at this, feeling more relaxed than he has in months. Even with the impending games and Snow still watching him like a hawk, he couldn't help his good mood even if he tried.

"I'll whip up something." He offered, a well-natured, sincere grin slipping onto his face without permission. "I make a mean seafood pasta."

Ichigo snorted at his words, but didn't refute his offer. Annie smiled softly and grabbed Finnick's hand as he led them towards the kitchen, away from the shady porch where good memories were made.

* * *

 **Please review on the way out. And check out my tumblr page. aerialflight.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Hunger Games or Bleach**

* * *

 **Notes:** Again updated, in reward for waiting so long. Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

Finnick Odair – he finally figured out his name from Annie, who had outright laughed at him when he sheepishly admitted he still didn't know the guy's name properly – was a baffling pile of disaster just waiting to happen.

Grudgingly, he had to admit to himself that he hadn't been fair on the guy at first due to the fact he acted waay to much like some certain, manipulative people in his life that he didn't like on principle.

(Aizen, Gin, and hell, even Urahara when he was at his most conniving before he really got to know him and discovered he was a hundred times _worse_ than he originally thought. The fucking shithead.)

Initially, Ichigo thought the guy was hiding too many things behind his smiling, blank mask that carefully hid his every thought. It took a while for Ichigo to distinguish the fact that no, the guy wasn't Aizen reincarnated ready to stab his back at any moment and that he also wasn't doing it to be purposefully disturbing like Gin had.

No, the more he looked, the more he began to realize that Finnick wasn't formulating diabolical plans every time he smiled that empty smile, but that he honestly didn't know how else to react to literally _anything_. It was like he was so used to smiling when he doesn't mean it, that it was a well-worn habit by now. Like a reflex that had been hard pressed into him to the point where he didn't know how to act natural in front of people he didn't know.

It was more than a little worrying to be frank.

Hell, Ichigo had almost been convinced that Finnick wasn't even capable of expressing any real emotion until Annie came into the picture. The way the bronze haired man looked at her almost made Ichigo feel like he was intruding on some private moment between two star-crossed lovers he's only ever read about in stories as a kid. It was more than a little embarrassing.

And that's when Ichigo extended the olive branch to the other man, Annie in tow as they all quietly ate in the kitchen with Finnick constantly shooting puzzling, awed smiles at her as if she was some miraculous marvel. It was such a drastic shift in demeanor that Ichigo couldn't help but keep a continuous eye on him as they ate, cataloguing the differences. Something the other man had whether been oblivious of, or simply ignored.

The next few days were radically different after that, Ichigo unflinchingly going up to him that next morning and bluntly asking him about 'Panem' in general.

Finnick had looked laughably stunned at his sudden approach after nearly five days of completely disregarding him, and had to have Ichigo prompt him with a growling, "Well?" before shaking out of it. The man had given him a perplexed look before cautiously starting to answer, as if afraid Ichigo's voluntary contact to him was a fluke he couldn't afford to mess up.

It sent a pang of guilt in Ichigo's gut at how uncomfortable he's made the man from his own behavior.

So with unhesitant resolve, Ichigo began to approach him more after that, firing question after question to him relentlessly to fill in the previous lack of communication between them.

At first, Finnick seemed wary by his rather blunt demands, but slowly began to relax and actually seemed to take some genuine enjoyment from Ichigo's obvious cluelessness on some issues. Like the matter of Capital fashion for example.

"Why the hell does everybody there dress like circus clowns on display? Are they compensating for something?" Ichigo complained as they casually ate their dinner in the living room on the expensive couches. It's been two weeks since Ichigo came to District 4 and they're more comfortable around each other than before.

Finnick let out a peal of snickers at this, grinning broadly with a touch of realism in it. Ichigo was satisfied to see that the fakeness he first saw from the young man was wearing away bit by bit the more they got to know each other.

"It's the fashion there." Finnick answered, looking greatly humored.

"They look ridiculous." Ichigo stated flatly. "And impractical. Seriously, have you seen those dresses? Some of them look like walking marshmallows with how poofy they look. I get second-hand embarrassment just watching them."

Finnick let out a _'pfft'_ sound that was so uncharacteristically undignified that Ichigo couldn't help but smirk smugly at how badly Finnick was unable to hold in his own amusement at the mental picture Ichigo painted.

"You-You really don't hold back, do you?" Finnick managed to wheeze out, breathless from laughing so much, sea-green eyes practically sparkling.

"It cuts the bullshit faster." Ichigo replied flippantly, which earned an amazed shake of the head.

"You're definitely one of a kind." Finnick declared, something almost like wistfulness in his voice. Ichigo, picking up on it, raised an eyebrow and jerked his head.

"What? You aren't capable of being completely honest?" Ichigo questioned. Finnick shook his head, a twisted, bitter smile spreading across his handsome features.

"Oh, I wish." Finnick gave a lopsided shrug. "I'm famous, remember?"

"Oh." To be honest, Ichigo had totally forgotten about that. He's never been one who cared about status and fame in the first place. Hell, his relationship with Byakuya alone spoke volumes of how much Ichigo gave a crap about that. Ichigo's interest piqued though over this new subject Finnick has opened up and he couldn't help but slyly smirk.

"So, what are you famous for anyway? Being the most wanted man of the year?" Ichigo snarked into his drink as he took a giant gulp.

Suddenly, as if a light switch was turned on, Finnick immediately turned rigid, a small flinch spazzing his entire body frame for only a second.

Ichigo's eyes sharpened at this, his attention snapping into focus.

What the heck?

"Hey." Ichigo said slowly, putting down his drink and giving the young man a questioning stare. "What's with you?"

Much to Ichigo's growing worry, Finnick didn't answer for a long while, his eyes avoiding his demanding gaze, a pensive expression plastered on. After a long moment, Finnick finally sighed, the sound long-drawn and defeated. When he looked up again, his face was steeled and serious in a way that made Ichigo instantly know he wasn't going to like what he had to say.

"Ichigo." Finnick said grimly, like he was bracing himself for impact. "There's something I should've told you a long time ago."

* * *

And then Finnick talked.

When Finnick finally finished, he felt utterly exhausted.

He finally told him, he thought somewhat dazedly, tired beyond belief over the emotional rollercoaster he had gone through. In all his life, he never had to explain the Games to someone who didn't even have an inkling of knowledge on the subject. _Everyone_ in Panem knew. Parents told their children all this when they were around six or seven so they could mentally be prepared over their possible, imminent deaths in the future. Morbid, but at least they won't grow up to be naïve and are capable of actually surviving in such a messed up system.

Ichigo hadn't interrupted once as Finnick explained the system, carefully making it sound a lot less worse than it was. Snow had cameras everywhere and though Finnick had a certain advantage above most tributes due to Beetee's reworking over the system maintenance, it wasn't something he could use often without attracting suspicion.

So he played it out in a way where it would be as carefully neutrally opinioned as possible.

Judging from how Ichigo's face only seemed to grow darker and darker by the minute, it wasn't working.

By the time he was done explaining how old the kids were, Ichigo looked ready to storm to the Capital and behead Snow himself.

 _"_ _Twelve?"_ Ichigo snarled out with so much murderous rage that Finnick instinctively tensed at the tone. It reminded him too much of the opponents he faced in the games when people were out to actually kill him. _"Are you fucking kidding me?"_

"I wish." He muttered under his breath. Ichigo stared at him, dawning comprehension rapidly taking over his face.

"How old were you?" Ichigo demanded, voice dangerously quiet, the calm before the storm. Finnick hesitated for moment before sighing, knowing he wouldn't quite until he told him.

"Fourteen."

Ichigo's face turned emotionless, face so closed off that Finnick would have to pry Ichigo open with a crowbar to get any reaction from him. Suddenly, with a deadly swiftness that looked almost predatory in nature, Ichigo stood up from his chair and whirled around to stand above him, eyes narrowed and so full of anger that it was terrifying.

"I'm going in the games, aren't I?" Ichigo said in such a contradictory calm tone that Finnick almost thought he misheard him. Finnick's only ever heard people say that sentence with fear or defeat, knowing they were going to die in there and terrified out of their minds at the inevitable fact. For all Finnick knew, Ichigo could've been talking about the weather from how he's talking.

"Yes." He admitted reluctantly, hating himself for it. "Ichigo-"

"Good."

With that one word, Ichigo began to turn around and briskly _walk away._

 _What?_

Finnick stared after him, speechless and unable to believe what he was hearing.

 _"_ _Good?"_ Something in him snapped at the word, anger rising rapidly beyond control. _"Good?_ Are you _insane?"_

"Everybody will be watching, right?" Ichigo stopped in his tracks and snapped his head to level him an intense, burning glare. "If that's the case, then it's the perfect time to strike."

He grinned wildly, everything about him screaming bloodlust and confidence and payback that'll send armies running for the hills.

He looked like a god of war ready to march to the front lines, eyes blazing with resolve so strong it would've driven weaker men on their knees.

"I'm going to fucking beat Snow at his own game."

* * *

 **Please review on the way out. Also, check out my tumblr page, aerialflight.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Hunger Games or Bleach**

* * *

 **Notes:** Again updated, in reward for waiting so long. Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

* * *

"So, how're we going to kill Snow?"

Finnick choked spectacularly.

It was the next day when Ichigo strode into the kitchen, flopped himself onto one of the chairs, and oh so casually dropped that particular bomb.

Finnick, who had been blearily sipping his second cup of coffee after another sleepless night full of nightmares triggered by the whole reveal of the games, was coughing up a lung by now from Ichigo's off-handed brusqueness. He snapped his head to look at him with such a scandalized, horrified expression that Ichigo was used to getting from, well, _everybody_. That is, until it transforms into 1000% done, longsuffering expressions that only becomes more frequent the more he pulled crazy stunts that only got crazier as time went by.

Ichigo didn't know why Finnick was so surprised though. He was pretty sure he made it very clear yesterday when he basically declared he was going to stop Snow at any cost.

And by stop, he meant kill. Obviously.

To Ichigo's confusion, Finnick whirled his head around wildly as if expecting an army to crash in from the windows and attack them at any moment. When it became clear that no one was, in fact, out to get them, Finnick shot Ichigo a heated glare that held more panic than anger than what Ichigo was used to receiving from the usually easy-going man.

" _Don't say things like that!_ Are you suicidal?" Finnick lowered his voice, face tightened. "There's audio cameras here. We're lucky I still have it disengaged right now."

Ichigo gave a deadpan, you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look.

 _"_ _Really?"_ the one word held so much I'm-so-done-with-this-bullshit emotion into it, that Ichigo was surprised at himself for having enough control not to throw his hands up and just walk away like an overdramatic teenager. Damn it, it was way too early in the morning to deal with this crap.

Finnick shrugged, something like bitter resignation twisting his lips in a _'hey, what can you do'_ manner that spoke volumes over how messed up it was.

"All the victors are watched 24/7. Snow-" Finnick cuts himself off, something haunted flickering in his sea-green eyes. "Snow likes to keep a look out for any sign of rebellion. Or happiness really."

Okay. Snow was now officially on his fucking shit list because this was just plain _absurd_. It's fucking Aizen all over again.

He knew lots of people thought he was oblivious to most things, but Ichigo wasn't fucking born yesterday. He could see the signs. Ichigo's been reading into what Finnick's been saying about the Capital and Panem for days now. How some districts were so much poorer than others and how all the productions seem to be supporting the Capital as a whole, which had been strange in itself before last night. And sometimes, when Finnick thought he wasn't looking, there was a sort of deep-set dread in his posture, as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders and it was only piling up by the day.

Ichigo had always thought fame was overrated, and now he had proof. Because if what Finnick said about Snow was as bad as he says, than Ichigo could only imagine what Finnick would've had to do to stay on Snow's good side. The fact he was so very public and famous only added to the pressure of _'don't screw this up.'_

And if it started at fourteen? Barely out of pre-teen years? Yeah, Ichigo could see why Finnick would wear a mask like it was artform by now. Hell, even Urahara's fake annoying grins looked more genuine than the twenty one year old victor's.

Not only that, he would have to be a special kind of idiot to not notice how Annie was more than a little unhinged. When they talked, sometimes she would stop in mid-conversation, eyes distant and gone, as if she's reliving some distant, horrifying memory over and over again. She would rock back and forth, little whimpers escaping her mouth as her whole body shook. The first time it happened, Ichigo had been more than a little freaked out and had instinctively grabbed onto her hand as she began to tremble, meticulously rubbing the small area on her back like he did with his sisters whenever they had a nightmare.

Thankfully, it worked. Her breathing evened out and her grip on his hand was so tight that her knuckles turned white as she did.

Finnick, who had heard the commotion, barged outside where they were out on the porch, eyes wide and frantic. He had looked completely shell-shocked at the fact Annie had calmed down on her own (which didn't bode well over the state of her mind). But once she clambered to her feet and fiercely hugged Finnick like she was barely holding on, it was like Ichigo wasn't even there anymore.

Finnick softly kissed her forehead with a reverence that would've had Ichigo blushing if it weren't for the fact the action was meant to comfort, innocent and so full of tenderness that it was heartbreaking.

Ichigo had quietly went inside, leaving the two behind. He may be an oblivious idiot when it came to love, but even he knew better than to encroach on such an intimate moment.

When Annie left, Ichigo didn't even ask what that was about, something Finnick had been immensely grateful for he could tell. His instincts were practically screaming at him that her state of being was _wrong_ , that something terrible must've happened to turn her into such a wreck. And somewhere at the back of his mind had darkly suspected that it hadn't been an accident.

And unfortunately, now he's proven right.

It all made sense. What Annie and Finnick had to have gone through to make them so broken made Ichigo's blood boil and have fury consume him till he saw red. Even Shiro, who usually didn't really care for such injustices, snarled with homicidal wrath that trembled his mental world from the sheer combined fury they both felt. And for _both_ of them to agree that Snow had to die, well…

It just showed how much of a bastard Snow truly was.

"Seriously," Ichigo gave in and threw up his hands in the air in complete aggravation. "why the hell haven't you people tried to kick his damn ass yet? Rally together or something? From what you're telling me, he's a fuckup and everybody knows it."

A quicksilver smirk flashed across Finnick's face at Ichigo's blatant insult to the President, but it quickly smoothed over the a grim line from the topic at hand.

"It's not that simple. He has support in the career districts, mostly in District 1 and 2. Districts 3 and 4 are half and half due to the fact there are so many peacekeepers in the area, more than most districts except 11. And the Capital has no problem in wiping out an entire District. That's what happened to District 13 when they tried to rebel decades ago."

"What about assassination? Fuck, why not just fucking shoot the guy the moment he's in sight for the whole damn world to see? It cannot be that hard."

"And risk retaliation and annihilation to another district again if they fail?" Finnick shook his head. "No, it would be way too risky. And people are always unarmed the second they get anywhere near Snow's premises. Unfortunately, peacekeepers are very thorough."

Ichigo scowled in irritation at Finnick's denial over his suggestions. Finnick, picking up his growing frustration, sighed and sipped his coffee before he finally spoke again.

"What did you mean yesterday when you said you wouldn't play Snow's games?"

Ichigo shot him an are-you-stupid look.

"Exactly how it sounds. I'm not killing those kids, no way in fucking hell. Snow can shove his games where the sun doesn't fucking shine, I'm not fucking doing it."

He was a protector. It was his damn job to keep people safe, not hunt down children and murder them like a deranged serial killer.

 _Twelve year olds._ He inwardly snarled like a beast at the very idea. It was _sickening_.

Yuzu and Karin flashed in his mind for a moment and he had to clench his fists as rage coursed through his body and left him homicidal. Like fucking hell he'll ever let that happen to someone else.

"You have to." Finnick insisted, looking somewhat pained.

Ichigo snorted.

"No. No, I really don't." Ichigo shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll think of something, don't worry about it."

Finnick looked close to the breaking point of frustration. Yet another familiar expression Ichigo was used to.

Before Finnick could shake him by the neck, Ichigo got off his chair and grabbed an apple from the table off the counter as he began to walk away. Waving a hand behind him flippantly, he began to stride back towards his room, terminating the conversation effectively.

Behind him, Ichigo swore he heard a strangled noise before something thunked violently on some hard surface. He was probably imagining things.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and please check out my tumblr page, aerialflight. And my AO3 profile SSaerial. Please leave a review at the end and I hope you enjoyed it!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything in Hunger Games or Bleach**

* * *

 **Notes:** Again updated, in reward for waiting so long. Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

* * *

 _"_ _No."_

"Come on Ichigo, it's just an outfit-"

 _"_ _No._ Over my fucking dead body you son of a bitch. There's no fucking way I'm parading in that _sparkly stripper getup_."

"E- _Excuse me!_ How _dare_ you! It's _satin_ , something a-a _savage_ like you doesn't even deserve to wear!"

"Well good! I'd rather have my balls ripped out and shove it down my own damn throat-"

 _"_ _Ichigo!"_

"What? I'm just stating the fucking facts. I'm not wearing the damn thing. It barely fucking covers anything. And is that a _loincloth?_ What am I going to do? Rip it off and moon to the crowd like a fucking prancing pony on crack-"

 _THUD._

"... Did she just _faint?"_

"Well, that does happen sometimes when people get shocked enough. Your damn language isn't helping."

"Like you're one to talk. I heard you the other day talking on the phone. I don't think I've ever heard so many epitaphs covering a person's genitals before-"

 _"_ _Okay_. Well- _cough_ -let's never speak of this again. Ever. _Please_."

Ichigo narrowed his eyes at Finnick's nearly pleading tone. He was tempted to think the bastard was mocking him if it weren't for the very real exasperation that practically illuminated the man's rather aggravated features.

"You weren't seriously going to force me to wear that, right? Because if you were, I would've punched your pretty face and broke your perfect teeth." Ichigo asked, suspicious.

Finnick huffed and shot him a sliver of a grin that belied great amusement to the idea of having Ichigo dress up half-naked in front of the entire Capital.

"God no. I just wanted to see your face." Finnick ran a hand through his carefully crafted bronze curls, shaking his head. "I didn't expect you to make my stylist faint like that though. I think that's the first time I've ever seen her that red. And she's seen me naked since I was fourteen."

"... Okay, that sounded _so_ _wrong_ that I don't even want to go there."

"Noted."

Ichigo rolled his eyes to the heavens, wishing the train ride was over.

Time flew by since their talk weeks ago, and Finnick has been making futile attempts to convince him on giving up his plan on not killing anyone. Ichigo, of course, brushed off Finnick's concerns and arguments and simply said, "I'll think of something."

Ichigo was pretty sure Finnick was growing to hate that phrase. He could tell by the little spasm that was growing at the corner of the young man's eye.

Finnick, realizing Ichigo's mulish stubbornness was as immovable as a mountain, switched tactics and instead started giving him tips on how to make himself likeable. Like Ichigo gave a flying fuck about the issue. It would be funny if it weren't so obvious how much Ichigo didn't care a lick at all what people thought of him.

And don't even get Ichigo _started_ on the weapon's training Finnick had tried to set him up with later. The trainers had been just plain embarrassing, their skills so below mediocre that Ichigo had basically dodged all their increasingly frustrated attacks like it was nothing, so bored out of his mind that he just outright skipped the lessons after that because they were so useless.

And the trainers, who all apparently were professional Career trainers for decades and basically the best of the best of who Finnick could hire, didn't say a word to Finnick about how pathetically easy it was for Ichigo to knock them down in 2.5 seconds like they were a bunch of clumsy toddlers who barely knew how to walk. Their prides stung, they refused to return after that. It left Ichigo with a raving Finnick, who Ichigo basically ignored the entire lecture in favor of napping right in the middle of the victor's rant.

Finnick had marched up to him one day, desperate for Ichigo to understand how dangerous the games were. Ichigo stopped him in his track with a sharp look that was serious to the core, no longer flippant and fed up with Finnick's advances.

"Look, I get you're worried. And I get you're supposed to be my 'mentor'." Ichigo wrinkled his nose at the word, because the thought was laughable to him. "But I don't need a mentor. I need a friend. Which you are to me." Finnick looked extremely startled at that, causing Ichigo to scowl. "Yes you, you dumbass. Stop acting like you're not enough. Just you being here is fine, got it?"

A slow, tentative grin grew on Finnick's face, looking like he was actually _touched_ by Ichigo's words, which was preposterous. It left Ichigo flustered and barking for him to stop grinning like an idiot at him. It only seemed to make Finnick grin at him even more, looking like the cat who at the canary.

Stupid.

It didn't stop Ichigo from rolling his eyes and patting the ridiculous man on the shoulder in an awkward, comforting manner.

So while Finnick stopped badgering him about the hunger games, he still shot intense, worried looks at Ichigo that made him want to get up from his chair and shake him till he stopped. It was annoying as hell and got onto Ichigo's nerves.

And then reaping day came.

Ichigo knew it was just a formality really for him anyways, but District 4 didn't know that.

So when Ichigo's name was called by the clown-like dressed woman with the shrill voice, everyone stared at him as if he was a dead man walking. Just to spite everything, Ichigo had yawned, tired of standing around so long with Finnick fidgeting next to him, and strode his way onto the stage with nonchalance that people would mistake as arrogance.

The sixteen year old girl that came up next, Brea, was shaking but defiant as she stepped up. Her family silently watched behind her, clinging onto dignity while silent tears fell. Ichigo's stomach had twisted at the display, his hatred for Snow only growing by the minute as he saw how stony everyone was as they sent two teenagers to their death.

Needless to say, it had been depressing.

Ichigo all but snapped when the Capital woman cheerfully informed the gloomy crowd how much of an 'honor' it was to have their guest participate in the games. Like it was something to be ecstatic about.

"Lady." He loudly interrupted her speech midway, earning turned heads and gaping mouths at his audacity to do so, "shut the fuck up."

Stunned, flabbergasted silence met his harsh words.

At the corner of his eye, Finnick all but buried his head in his hands and groaned. The old lady next to him was staring at him with wide eyes and a firm mouth as if she's tempted to burst out laughing right then and there. Ichigo liked her instantly.

And Brea, well, she stared at him as if he was bat-shit insane with a death wish. Not so discretely – seeing how they were on camera – she took a step away from him, as if further proximity would distance herself from the firing line that Ichigo had unrepentantly created for himself.

The look on the powder faced woman made the entire thing worth it. She cleared her throat and broke out a strained smile as if it's killing her on the inside while she's doing it. Much to Ichigo's satisfaction, the woman skipped over her entire speech and practically leaped off the stage as if her dress was on fire.

It was fucking hilarious.

To him anyway.

Finnick looked ready to murder him once they got alone as Brea was saying goodbye, the old lady trailing behind the victor with a curious, conniving glint in her eyes that instantly put Ichigo on guard. If there was one thing he's learned about old crones, were that they were tricky as hell and twice more clever than anyone they were playing. Yoruichi has pummeled that lesson into his abused cranium well.

 _"_ _What_ were you _thinking_? _"_ Finnick had practically hissed, bristling like a drowned cat. The old lady's eyebrows shot to the hairline at Finnick's very visible anger.

Ichigo sneered while crossing his arms defiantly and jutted out his chin.

"What, you can't tell me you didn't want to do it either. Somebody had to shut her up."

"What you did was _reckless_ and _stupid_. _All of Panem_ just saw that. The repercussions-"

"Repercussions? _Seriously?_ The whole reason why your bastard president want me in the game is to kill me off. _Don't open that mouth and deny it._ Besides, it's not like I'm going to die or anything."

Finnick made wringing notions with his hands, spluttering with disbelieving ire.

"You- _you_ ," he strangled out.

Before he could say another word, the old woman suddenly was making this weird, wheezing noise that drew the pair's attention from their bickering. For a moment, Ichigo had panicked over the idea she was sick or having a heart attack until he saw the huge grin that was hiding behind her wrinkled hand. Another wheezing noise that sounded like a dying gazelle escaped out of her as she grasped onto a very flummoxed Finnick's shoulder as if to steady herself from the sheer hilarity of the moment.

Ichigo felt indignation rise in his chest at the fact she was totally laughing at them right in front of their faces.

When she finally stopped, her eyes were still twinkling and the quirking smile on her face made her look like a mischievous fox.

And then she opened her mouth and gibberish came out.

Ichigo gave her a blank look.

"I don't understand a word you're saying." He stated very flatly, and was baffled when her amusement only seemed to flare at his straightforwardness. She said something again, this time to Finnick, and he all but ducked his head like a blushing schoolboy who was being reprimanded by the principal. Later, Finnick introduced her as Mags.

Ichigo had nodded and straight out said, "I like her."

"Yeah, I can tell." Finnick said wryly. "Unlike me apparently."

"That's because you were smiling like someone was pulling teeth from your gums. It was painful just watching you."

Finnick had blinked, something close to bewildering relief flooding into his sea-green eyes.

"Oh." The young man had said softly, and Ichigo all but gave up ever understanding him. Good grief, he was even worse than Ichigo when it came to people, being the self-deprecating moron he is.

So now here they were, standing in Finnick's gigantic bedroom within the train with Finnick's stylist Deli who was always at Finnick's beck and call, whether the man liked it or not. Ichigo could tell she was someone Finnick always tried to escape from if the fluid way he evaded the huffing woman's attempts earlier said anything.

Then her attention had riveted onto Ichigo and she ended up chattering over some ideas of what he should wear during the chariot rides.

And then she fainted. Not that Ichigo was complaining.

Glancing around the fancy room, Ichigo frowned, a thought crossing his mind.

"Where's Mags and that girl Brea?"

"In the female section of the train I suppose." He went quiet at his next words. "Mags says she broke down and refused to come out of her room."

"… I'm not letting her die you know. Any of them." Ichigo declared, staunching the bitterness that Ichigo could tell was taking over Finnick's shadowed face. Finnick instead chuckled tiredly, so weary despite his young age. With his shoulders slumped and his hand raking his hair agitatedly, Ichigo was struck by how much this was taking a toll on the guy. How many kids did he send to the games, knowing they're going to die and helpless to stop it?

Ichigo flashbacked to those dark days when he had lost his powers, leaving him without purpose and lost in life.

"Trust me." He added simply, the words burning his throat and the promise leaving no arguments for Finnick to nitpick.

For once, the victor didn't argue back.

* * *

 **Thank you so much for reading and please check out my tumblr page, aerialflight. And my AO3 profile SSaerial. Please leave a review at the end and I hope you enjoyed it!**


	9. NOTICE!

**REGARDING FANFICTION ACCOUNT**

I will no longer be using my Fanfiction account. I have uploaded all my stories to my AO3 account and if anyone wants to read any future updates or stories I write in the future, please go there instead. I apologize, but I've just gotten more comfortable using AO3 than Fanfiction, and hope that all of you can respect my wishes when I tell you this.

So starting now, I will no longer be updating any of my Fanfiction stories and will be using AO3 fulltime from now on. Seriously, please respect this decision, I will not change my mind on this.

Thank you! My **AO3 (archive of our own . org) account is SSAerial** and my **tumblr account** in case you have any questions or such is **aerialflight**.

Also, if anyone would like to be notified when I update on AO3, then they would have to make a new AO3 account and subscribe stories in order to be notified when they've been updated. And in order to make a new account, they must ask for an invite, and the invitation would come in a few days or more later via email. It's not an immediate process, but not a hard one to make. There's a waiting list, so it could take a while, please be patient. And I don't know why, but new invitations are temporarily unavailable, so I can't send an invite myself right now.

I understand where all of you are coming from, and I do realize this is somewhat inconvenient to some of my readers, and I do understand the reluctance to make another account just because I'm moving to another website.

I have a tumblr account, aerialflight. I notify my followers and such there whenever I have updated a story or even post snippets or recommendations for other fics as well. Also, whenever you feel you have questions too, you can message me there too if there is anything you want to say.

Thank you, for being so polite in your asking (which not many would've done), and I hope that you'll still read my stories, even if it's in a different place.


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